


Tucker's Bad Day

by Churbooseanon



Series: Escort AU [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Escorts, Custody Arrangements, Escort Service, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a lot of ways a day can qualify as memorably bad. Sometimes Lavernius Tucker was certain he knew that better than anyone else he had ever met. What was his life, after all, but a mess of bad days strung together like a Kix Christmas garland, with the bad days being the cereal and the good days distantly spread beads or whatever other shit you put on there. The good days stood out, spots of color and difference that drew the eye, caught the imagination. But those spots didn’t mean the balls of Kix weren’t there, filling up the spaces in between. Bad days are the essence of life, the characterizing flavor.</p><p>And for Tucker this particular bad day comes with secrets being unveiled, battles being waged, and the chance of the thing most important to him being snatched from his hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There are a lot of ways a day can qualify as memorably bad. Sometimes Lavernius Tucker was certain he knew that better than anyone else he had ever met. What was his life, after all, but a mess of bad days strung together like a Kix Christmas garland, with the bad days being the cereal and the good days distantly spread beads or whatever other shit you put on there. The good days stood out, spots of color and difference that drew the eye, caught the imagination. But those spots didn’t mean the balls of Kix weren’t there, filling up the spaces in between. Bad days are the essence of life, the characterizing flavor. Sure, that may have started to change lately, the garland finding more points of color amid the Kix cereal but even being contracted to one of the best and most secretive companies in the city didn’t change them all. Still, Tucker could argue that the characterizing flavor of his life remained the bad days and the stress they brought with them. 

Today might be a pinnacle of shittiness, though. What else was Tucker supposed to think as he held the thick manila envelope in hand? The return address terrified him. The way it was addressed to ‘Mister Lavernius Tucker,’ as if those extra letters were actually important, scared him. The level of formality chilled him to the core, and that was just the exterior. 

It had started like most mornings on his off week did. Tucker had gotten up at half past noon and come down from his apartment to pick up the mail. The guy that shared the three bedroom apartment with, a man named Leonard Church, was a strange stickler for mail being brought inside in a timely manner, so Tucker made it part of his daily routine. On the off weeks that meant heading down right after he woke up, seeing as walking around got him conscious better than coffee ever had. Off weeks were waking up, getting the mail, and looking it all over while watching Cartoon Network and eating Fruit Loops. Everything played out differently when he had his son of course, but that was next week. 

Maybe. 

That, he thought, was depending on what he found when he opened the envelope from the lawyer that Junior’s mother had hired years ago to handle their initial custody battle. To have something from that woman waiting for him couldn’t mean anything good. In fact, it could only mean today would be a particularly memorable day, a burnt Kix strung onto his garland of life, maybe with a tiny spot of blood because the needle pricked his finger or something. 

Truth be told, he couldn’t look just yet. Couldn’t open it and see how his life was going to change. There was too much he had to do with his day before he let what was probably the worst new ever cut into it. So, breakfast done, Tucker abandoned the envelope, and his cereal bowl, on the table and pushed to his feet. What he needed, what he really needed right now, was a good run. Besides, if he didn’t go now he wouldn’t make the park in time to meet his running partner, and York got worried if Tucker didn’t make it in time. They had, after all, been doing this daily for three years now, ever since Tucker signed on to Dolce and the more experienced escort had taken him under his wing. The only exceptions to their runs over the last years had been the accident that had taken York out of the business, Junior’s chickenpox fiasco, and that unfortunate stomach flu that had gripped the whole city last year. Missing their run without ample warning was unforgivable, and unthinkable. As York had taught him all those years ago, the first asset of an escort is their body. Clients paid for beauty on their arms, examples of humanity that were fit and pleasing to the eye. Charm came second, overall personality third, and the ability to take part in an intelligent conversation a shockingly close fourth. But current events and conversation practice he got twice weekly at work from a man named Butch, and so body York had taken upon himself. 

The questions came of course, Tucker knew they would. In the end he was a few minutes late, he had failed to find his favorite running shorts, and even brought his iPod along with him so he didn’t have to think on the way there or back. York was the talk it out sort of guy, and Tucker… well, he wasn’t. Things like this weren’t for talking, and Tucker didn’t prod York about his attempts to seduce a teacher and a security guard at the same time. By the time they were done he was sweaty, annoyed, and still not ready to face the envelope that judged him from the coffee table in his apartment. 

Luckily there were other things to get done around the apartment. After his shower, Tucker gathered up his laundry, and Church’s for good measure. Once all of that was sorted and in the machine he even went and cleaned the bathroom. And the kitchen. And when was the last time he’d tidied Junior’s room while he was at it? And once the floor was bare it so obviously needed to be vacuumed. It was only with that enlightening thought that he realized they didn’t even own a vacuum, so clearly he needed to head out to the store to get one. While he was out there, well, weren’t groceries necessary too? 

It was actually amazing the amount of things he could come up with to do if he didn’t want to focus on what he was supposed to. So it was that by the time Church came home there was a pot of homemade soup bubbling slowly on the stove while Tucker was sprinkling some of that carpet freshening powder over the rug in the hall so he could vacuum that as well. He looked up when he heard keys rattle into the bowl by the door, and Tucker guessed the look on his face must have been a sight to see when Church smirked at him, shaking his head. Why, Tucker wondered, did he feel like he’d been caught doing something wrong, like jerking off on the couch, when he’d only done good with his cleaning? 

“What,” Church asked, his smirk wide, as he looked around the living room, “hot date?”

“Like hell I would run the risk of bringing some hot chick anywhere near the range of your terrible personality,” Tucker snapped with more force than he’d intended. Church didn’t seem to mind though, and so Tucker went back to cleaning as Church strolled into the kitchen. 

There was a tension, though, that kept Tucker silent as he plugged in the vacuum. A tension that carried as Church entered the hall, carrying a mug of coffee. So maybe his snapping had affected Church more than the other man was ever going to admit. Quickly Tucker stepped out of the way, pulling the vacuum with him, as Church moved down the hall and toward his bedroom. Which Tucker knew was neater now than it had been when Church had left this morning, not to mention the presence of the neatly folded clothes Tucker had put on the foot of Church’s bed. If he was any judge of his roommate, and he knew he was, the man should be shouting his name in five… four… 

“Tucker,” Church called, his voice surprisingly calm and coming sooner than Tucker had expected. 

“Yeah?” Tucker asked, standing still with his hand on the the vacuum. If he turned it on maybe he could avoid the strangely quiet Church. 

“Come in here for a second?”

Tucker looked behind him, gauging the distance between him and the front door. There was no way he couldn’t make an escape. He was fast, he was fit, and it wasn’t like Church ever hurried for anything other than a meal. It would take nothing at all to escape in this moment. But should he? Every interaction between them for a time would be about this. Thus escape would achieve little, if anything at all. 

With a sigh Tucker shoved his fists into his pocket and shuffled into Church’s room. The other man was there, standing silently with his gaze on his bed. The clothes, Tucker couldn’t help but think. That had been a step too far. Way too far judging by the tension in the other man’s shoulders. Tucker had invaded his privacy and Church was offended. Great. Things just kept getting better. 

“Yeah?” he asked, standing behind Church, hands still in his pocket. 

“Care to explain?” Church asked, gesturing toward the laundry with his mug of coffee. “Not to mention the soup in the kitchen. The fact that the living room has been completely dusted. And I peeked in on the bathroom. I think you mopped the floor.”

“Naw, man, that’s too much effort. Just swiffered,” Tucker admitted, but he was pretty sure Church’s point held. 

“I think I can honestly say that the only time we really ever clean is when we know or suspect Carolina will be coming over,” Church answered, voice pensive. “Oh, and when that kid of yours has friends coming over. Seeing as your brat isn’t here this week, that’s ruled out.”

Yeah, it was. Tucker just sighed and rocked back and forth a bit on his feet. He couldn’t fault Church’s logic, which could be frustrating at times. 

“So?” he asked. “Sometimes a guy just has to take charge of his environment. I’m a take charge kind of guy. This is me, taking charge. Gotta set a good example for my kid and all. He’s growing up fast and how can I tell him to clean his own room if we can’t keep our place neat? Plus I had the time and…”

“What’s up with Junior, Tucker?” 

The question took all of the steam out of Tucker’s defense, and he could do nothing but gape at his roommate at first when Church turned to look at him. 

“I… nothing,” Tucker said lamely, and when Church’s raised eyebrow and pursed lips said he wasn’t buying that for a moment, Tucker had to sigh. 

“What gave me away?” he had to ask. 

“You never let me get away with calling him a brat.”

“Oh.”

That was it, all Tucker could come up with in response as he looked down at his hands. They should be doing something. He should be doing something, anything. What he needed was to be moving, be acting, be doing something good and positive to balance the rest of it out. To keep him for just a bit longer from what he really should be doing and wasn’t ready for. News no father should have to deal with. 

“What happened?”

“I should get back to…”

There were a lot of unspoken rules about the relationship he shared with his roommate. For one thing eating the other’s food was a punchable offense. Tucker had used his son to get around that a few times in the past, but it was basically obeyed. Another was that the rent was never late. If you had to delay throwing money in for utilities then heads up was all you needed most of the time, but never rent. Not that it was ever an issue before, but the rule was still there. It was also agreed that if one of them was being mean to Junior the other stepped in. After that came the rule that Tucker was never, ever, to hit on Carolina. That was as much manlaw as anything else. And finally, no touching. 

That last one seemed to have been tossed through the window given Church’s hand on his shoulder. Of course Tucker’s eyes went to the point of contact, but before he could speak he found himself being pulled by that grip. Shocked, maybe even horrified, he just moved as he was guided, trying to understand why he was being sat down on the edge of Church’s bed. But there he was, and after a moment the mattress shifted as Church sat next to him. Right next to him. Not legs touching close, but maybe knees touching if Tucker sprawled a bit more. What the actual fuck was happening to his life right now? 

“What’s up with Junior?” 

The question, repeated and with a soft concern behind it, just made Tucker wonder why Church cared. But it also… well, it affected Church too, right? Telling him wasn’t like telling York. That made it alright, right? Someone tell him it was right. 

“I… I think his mom is going to take him away from me.”


	2. Chapter 2

At first there was no response. Tucker just sat there silently on the edge of Church’s bed, the tension welling up in him to no end. Waiting for Church to respond was pretty terrible on his already fraying nerves, and to have Church there, staring blankly, was slowly killing him. At least the disbelief plain on his face after a second was progress. Then, after another breath, Church was shaking his head, repeatedly. 

“No,” Church said as he shook his head, drawing the word out until it felt like there were maybe ten syllables involved. “No, that doesn’t make any sense, see? Because you take really good care of your brat, I mean, what kind of justification could she have? Naw man, it’s all in your head.”

Tucker rolled his eyes. Of course it wasn’t ‘all in his head.’ The envelope was out there, and he still wasn’t ready to face that. But given what he had seen, he had reasons to believe what Church didn’t. Dammit it wasn’t only unfair, but Church couldn’t even believe it and the two of them had been living together for a while now. Not that Tucker strictly needed a roommate. He just liked the company, the neighborhood and, well… it freed up money for other things. 

“And yet,” Tucker deadpanned at the man who could, generously, be called his best friend. “Got a letter from her lawyer, and Junior says she’s been talking about going home to her mom. GIven how hard she fought me over custody…”

“She fought you?” Church asked, and Tucker had to sigh. Church as a part of his life had been post custody battle, so he didn’t know how crazy Tucker had almost gone to make sure he got equal custody of his kid. He wasn’t the man he had been when Junior had been born. The more time he had spent with the kid, though, the more his life became centered on the boy. When Junior’s mom had suggested he shouldn’t be involved anymore, Junior had fought back. 

“Tooth and nail,” Tucker agreed. “And if she thinks she’s taking my kid from me, she’s got another thing coming. Like, what the hell?”

At last, looking at Church, he saw his outrage mirrored on the other man’s face. 

“Any clue what basis she has to take him away?”

Nope, not one. Of course it would be in the papers, but Tucker was scared to look at him. So he just shook his head and was shocked to find that Church was on his feet. Almost immediately he was lunging forward to grab Church’s wrist. What the hell was he going to do? Of course Church turned to look at him, his brilliant green eyes focusing directly on the touch. And just like that Tucker released him, and he didn’t blush but he did glare down at his hand. 

“I’m just going to get the letter,” Church said, frowning. “You said there was a letter, right? Tell me where it is and we’ll look at it. Together.”

Oh. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he looked at it with someone else. Plus it would get Church out of this not believing him stuff. So, despite how it made him feel, Tucker nodded. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, that sounds… Can one not do it in here? Like, it’s your fucking room. Can we move this to neutral ground?”

Church just gave him a look, one that was a mix of annoyed and pitying, and while Tucker didn’t approve of the expression, he took it in stride when Church didn’t berate him. Normally his roommate had a hair trigger for a lot of things, so to have him a bit gentler wasn’t just surprising, it was welcome. Support was what he needed, not harassment. To have Church offering him that was… unexpected. 

“Kitchen?” Church suggested. “I mean, you made food and it is where the beer lives.”

Beer. Oh wow, Tucker had forgotten all about that. 

“Unless you’re heading out to work soon,” Church said quickly. 

“No,” Tucker admitted. He could text Felix and ask the asshole to send him a picture of his schedule. Kimball wasn’t going to be happy for him skipping out on tonight because she usually briefed on any new clients or jobs that would come up for him in the coming days. But he would borrow the trouble if he had Church offering to help him out. So he pushed himself to his feet and nodded. “Soup or whatever sounds good. Do we have that loaf of French bread on the fridge?”

“Wow, you didn’t bother to check before you went to the store?” Church asked, smirk on his face. 

“Not everyone is freakishly tall,” Tucker protested. 

“Or maybe not everyone is freakishly small,” Church countered, still smirking. 

“God, you are just a fucking douchebag,” Tucker groaned, but he did follow Church out of his room and ignored the closing of Church’s door, behind him. The vacuum stood in the middle of the hall still, but Tucker ignored it as he made his way toward the kitchen. 

“The latter?”

“Living room,” Tucker answered as he turned his attention to the kitchen. When he got there he turned the heat down under the soup and pulled down bowls. The bread he would leave to Church, but he could at least get them the main part of their meal. He filled Church’s bowl to heaping because Carolina always complained that CHurch didn’t have enough meat on his bones. Tucker, though, barely put any soup into his bowl, because he still wasn’t very hungry. Beers, though, were placed for both of them on the table between their seats. 

“Got it,” Church said as he came into the kitchen with the manila envelope. ‘Of doom’ Tucker’s mind immediately supplied. But he kept quiet as Church came in with it and sat down. While getting out spoons for their soup, Tucker also fetched a butter knife, which he passed over to Church. The man sighed and used it to open the envelope and he carefully worked the thing open. Tucker held his breath as Church pulled out a stack of paperwork that he laid out between them. 

Tucker wasn’t even halfway through the first page of the letter before Church was popping the caps on their beer bottles and going to bring over the rest of the six pack over to the table. Tucker was thankful, because he knew that by the end he would need it. need a lot more than just this, and he’d probably call Felix to find some way to forget himself. Of course given how much time his fellow escort put into his client turned serious boyfriend, Tucker doubted he would even get the time of day out of him. 

“Shit, they aren’t messing around with this,” Church grumbled as he sat back down and flipped through the pages. “A lot of this includes arguments as to why you shouldn’t get to keep your kid. As well as paperwork you can just sign to agree and get it over with. What sort of asshole is that presumptive?”

“Fuck,” Tucker grumbled, pushing the papers away. “She can’t do this to me.”

“Mind if I give this over to Carolina to look at?” Church asked. “She might find something wrong with all this legal shit, give you some advice on how to get past this.”

Again Church flipped through the papers and shook his head. “Some of this is pure bullshit. Like this section here on your job. What the hell is wrong with being the host at a restaurant? I mean it, helps you pay for this place and putting Junior into that fancy smart kid school. Bet you’re more stable job wise than she is.”

Tucker tried to hide his discomfort in the sip of his beer. Maybe he should have answered, because Church looked at him weird. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Come up with something to say. 

“Uh…”

“Tucker,” Church said, his voice soft and yet with a very hard edge. ‘What else aren’t you telling me?”

Fuck. 

“I… well… I totally cover the cost of Junior’s education,” Tucker admitted nervously. “So… that’s one thing she can’t hold against me.”

“Tucker… that place is insanely expensive,” Church said simply. “I know. My parents sent me there. Well, my Dad at least. That place is amazing and if you’re paying for that all on your own, there is no way you’re a restaurant host. Tuck… does she have a reason to call your job ‘unsuitable for child rearing?”

Shit. So long he had kept the secret of Dolce away from his roommate. There was no way Church was going to understand. Luckily Tucker was the primary signee on the lease, so there was no way Church could kick him out. He’d still have a home… Not that he’d need this big of a place if his ex took Junior away. Which would actually be the worst thing, really. What would he do without Junior? 

“Tucker, what the hell do you do that is such a problem that you’ve been hiding it from me for years? Because if you’re, like, a drug dealer or something, I might have to agree with her on this.”

“What the hell, man?” Tucker shouted at him. “Do you really think I would need to live with your dumb fucking ass if I did that? No, man, nothing the fuck illegal, and way to go on cliche socially unacceptable black guy jobs.”

“Woah!” Church protested. “Dude, that is not what I’m getting at all. God, why do you always play the race card in serious conversations?”

“Always? Church, no one ‘always’ does anything,” Tucker pointed out. 

“No, but you do have a pretty amazing track record when it comes to avoiding the conversation we are caught up in at a moment,” Church growled. With that he reached for the papers again, flipping to the listing of reasons why Tucker should give up his kid. 

“Right here, Tucker,” Church jabbed his finger at the words. “Right there. What is meant by that? What do you do that she thinks she can use against you?”

“She thinks I’m a whore,” Tucker mumbled under his breath. 

“What?” Church asked, leaning in closer. “Speak up, Tucker, because your kid may well be on the line.”

“She thinks I’m some kind of whore,” Tucker snapped angrily at Church. And again silence settled in. If nothing else he was pretty certain he could hear the sound of a pin drop with how quiet it was. And how huge Church’s eyes were. Something also told him that if the man had been eating or drinking anything in that moment, he probably would have choked on it. So thank god he wasn’t that bad on his timing, though taking his roommate to the hospital would be a way better excuse to Kimball if it came up.

“More words?” Church asked at last, his voice strained. “Are you…?”

“I’m an escort with the Dolce company. Surely you’ve heard rumors about it,” Tucker sighed.

“More than,” Church sighed. No, it wasn’t like that, please? Tell him Church hadn’t hired people Tucker worked with…Still, it would be interesting to know what Church’s type was, since he never brought anyone around the place. 

“No, not me,” Church shook his head. “But our dad does when he is trying to impress donors, with his fucked up schemes. That is part of the job, right? To make people look good?” That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly,” Tucker sighs, “but I think she found out and people think we’re in the sex business and…”

“Since no one would ever sleep with my asshole father without being paid, and he sure as hell isn’t getting laid, I doubt it. But whatever.”

Tucker just had to stare. Church is… surprisingly accepting of a lot of this. Took it all in stride. How was that even possible? No, it made things weird between them, didn’t it? But the man still didn’t get it. Because if Church really understood, he would be freaking out. 

“Yeah,” Tucker answered lamely. “I… We aren’t allowed, of course. We’re just hired dates. I look good. I train for it. I am meant to sound smart and make people look desirable. I mean, yeah, I’ve hooked up with a few hot chicks after but it was off the books, they didn’t buy me a drink or gifts or anything. Just two adults banging each other behind closed doors.”

Church smirked. “Yeah, I know. Which is why Carolina doesn’t give a fuck about Dad doing it. And you know what a stickler she is for legality.”

“But do you?” Tucker asked. “I mean, you’re offering to help me out and this…”

“Why do I care what the hell you do, giving you cover most of the rent?” Church asked. “You aren’t what she thinks you are, and you don’t bring anyone like that home because I assume that would be awkward. So can we just focus on the part where this lady is going to try and take your kid far away and can we solve that problem?”

Oh, right.

Tucker signed and looked down at his beer. How could anything be made right? 

“So…” Church said as he opened another bottle up for Tucker and put it in front of him. “We’re going to get through this. I’m going to help you because we’re friends, and Junior, for all that he’s a brat. Now let’s put our heads together and figure this out.”

“How?” 

“Well, first of all, why aren’t you talking to the powerful, wealthy, shadow company with their fingers in everything that you work for to get help?”

Tucker couldn’t help but stare at Church in shock. 

Why hadn’t he thought of that?


End file.
